


Training for dummies

by Eilisande



Category: Garfield - All Media Types
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-09
Updated: 2020-04-09
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:54:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23566408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eilisande/pseuds/Eilisande
Summary: How Jon adopted Garfield, and their first days together.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8





	Training for dummies

**Author's Note:**

> Translation of one of my texts. Enjoy your reading and let me know if you liked it!

"Humans are a necessary evil," purred his mother as he frantically drank her milk with his litter of siblings. "You just have to properly train them. "

The kitten who calls himself Ferocious-predator-insatiable-eater had carefully listened to her. First, because he really had no choice if he wanted to eat, even if he paid more attention to her udders than to her voice; secondly because it was wise advice.

"They will give you a name. Learn it, but pretend you haven't heard them most of the time. They must understand that it is not us who must obey, but they."

That too had seemed wise to him.

"Always show that you are happy with the food they give you." It smells bad most of the time, and it is less tasty than theirs, but if you want them to feed you and offer you their leftovers once in a while, pretend you like it. It is the only point on which they always refuse to obey, and it is the price to pay so that they accept to be our slaves."

That, on the other hand, Ferocious Predator had decided immediately was silly advice. If they were the masters and the humans the servants, they had to obey all the time, not just when it suited them! One evening, he meowed his opinion to his mama, and two of his sisters joined him. For their protest, they had received a slight paw.

"You don't know what you're meowing," their mother had said. "We live in a restaurant, and that is paradise. We are fed three times a day, and we can hunt mice. It is exciting to see them squeak under our feet, it is nutritious, and cats are made to be hunters. Do what I say if you want to stay; otherwise, you may end up in a bag or in a pet store! "

At first, Ferocious-Predator had been afraid, then he had grown up, his eyes had opened, he had been able to get out of the basket by himself and his sense of smell had become more refined. And he had decided that definitely, he didn't understand why humans were entitled to good food and to become as round as his basket when he should get tired chasing mice. So, one night when everyone was asleep, he got out of his basket, jumped on the tea towels hanging from the counter, climbed on and stuck his head into the cold remains of the restaurant's leftovers.

Ferocious-Predator had discovered the lasagna, and he saw that it was good.

It was so good that he did it again. Again and again. And he became braver and smarter. He even found a way to make his mother believe that he was leaving the basket to began his job as a mice hunter. But he was just trying to reach the Grail and eat hot lasagna.

He got caught.

It was his fault. He thought to make the waiter trip on his way to serve the dish, but it was his right as the dominant species! Cook Guissepe grabbed him by the skin of his neck, shouted at his mother and declared that Ferocious-predator-fierce-thief-of-lasagna punishment would be the pet store.

"Find yourself a human who looks like an idiot!"», his mama had mewed desperately as he was dragged out of Mama Leone's and its divine lasagna.

  
And now, Ferocious-Predator was waiting in a pet store. There were lots of animals here, some of which looked more dangerous than he was, but he hissed at them to make them understand who the boss was. A dog still tried to bite him through the cage, and he promised himself that when he was older, he would kick all the dogs he could for revenge. His meows, the most pitiful he could emit, convinced the seller to put him in safety after that, between a turtle and a pebble. The rock had almost more conversation than the tortoise, but it was much less sociable.

Ferocious-predator was bored. He wanted a master to adopt him, but his mama's last advice followed him. He had to find an idiot who would obey every word.  
He saw a lot of idiots. By definition, all humans were idiots. But some looked more stupid than others. Fierce-Predator did not trust the tall guy who smelled of alcohol. He was more of a dog man, the horror. And he didn't want to be adopted by the woman who dragged her four children behind her. He wanted to be the family's beloved, not the scapegoat.

Then HE entered the store and Fierce-Predator knew that he had found it. He was obviously the paragon of human stupidity. One of his socks was black, the other green, his laces were mismatched, and he had recently put his elbow in spaghetti sauce. He was potentially a lasagna eater. Almost as important, he had empty eyes and a smug smile that made him want to scratch his face. He was very, very stupid.

The saleswoman happily guided him to Fierce Predator and his neighbours.

"These are our sweetest and kindest animals. With them, you are sure everything will be alright!"

"I never had an animal, I don't want to make a mistake", whined the human. "I should take the pebble, right? To train before moving on to a more difficult animal to raise."

Even his voice sounded stupid. Ferocious-Predator decided to go all in. That man wasn't going to choose a pebble when he was here! He dropped on his back and presented his belly to the human, meowing pitifully. Always let the prey believe you are weak, said his mama.

"Oh look at the poor kitten, he's in pain!"

"No, he does that because he likes you."

"You think?"

He was really too stupid. Ferocious-Predator leapt to the next level, jumping on his feet to grab onto the human's sweater and purr desperately, rubbing his head against him. With a little luck, he might even reach his elbow and lick the rest of the spaghetti sauce.

"Oh there, there, I think he likes me. You know what? I think I'll take that one."  
Jackpot.

The journey to his slave's home was as unpleasant as possible. Full of unpleasant odours, a too narrow cage in which the bumps of the road propelled him in all directions and worst of all, there was a piece of pizza stuck under a seat, just out of reach of his claws. So, for revenge, Ferocious Predator vomited wherever he can.

"Poor boy, the trip hurt him! Come on, we're going to make you look pretty inside."

"I don't care about being beautiful, I want you to serve me something to eat. Do you have any spaghetti left? "

The human did not listen to him, of course. He put him in the bathroom and darted him with a jet of water in the face. Ferocious-Predator leapt onto his face.

The human whined, picked up his aggressor and wiped the blood.

"The poor darling is still scared. It doesn't matter, we'll comfort him with good cat food."

"I'm an intelligent being, and you're my servant. From now on, you'll speak directly to me. And I don't want your abject mixture of cat food. I want real meat and tomato sauce and cheese. If possible, parmesan. "

This time the human put him on the kitchen table and Ferocious Predator purred to show that the location suited him and that he would take all his meals there from now on. The human sat on a chair and put his head in his hands to look Fierce Predator straight in the eyes.

"Human, if you want to make a duel of looks, you will lose for sure. "

"You need a name", said the enthusiastic human, "so you'll really be part of the family! I'm Jon, and I'm your master."

"Yes, in your dreams, slave. "

"What name could I give you? Do you have any idea?"

"Something fierce! Or a pasta recipe name! "

"See, it's got to be a name that really shows that you're from the Arbuckle family because if I give you any name, people won't realize that you're my cat. Could I call you like my father, Jon Herbert?"

Fierce-Predator pretended to vomit. Okay, his mama had said he had to let the human name him, but there were limits you shouldn't cross."

"No? So I could name you after my grandfather, Fitzegard?"

Fierce-Predator tried to scratch him.

"Still no? ... My other grandfather then? Garfield?"

It was... acceptable. And Fierce-Predator-eater-of-lasagna-and-master-of-Jon was afraid to go back further in Jon's family tree and find out what horrible names his ancestors had. Garfield would do. He meowed approvingly.

"Garfield then! Oh, how it suits you my cute little kitten! What if I gave you good cat food?"

"You can always try, but wait and see. "

Garfield observed Jon serve him, taking a moment to locate what was in each shelf and each open drawer. He had to know how to feed himself if he had a little nighttime craving. Or daytime cravings.

Singing, Jon put his food on the table. At least the mixture smelled better than the one served at the pet store, but Garfield wouldn't give in to blackmail. He hated canned food. He was the master, and it was time for Jon to find out. With his paw, he dropped the bowl at the bottom of the table.  
Oh? The noise was fun, and it was even a little exciting to show its power. He already wanted to do it again, maybe with something made of glass or china. Without complaining, Jon picked up the bowl and filled it again with pelleted cat food. Garfield threw it on the floor viciously.  
"You don't like it? I have nothing else for you, and the supermarkets are closed at this time! I couldn't buy you another brand before Monday!"

Perfect. Garfield hoped that Monday would never come.

"I can always try to make you eat my leftovers. I don't have much, I just planned to warm up the lasagna."

"Jackpot! I knew you were a lover of Italian cuisine. You know what, I'm so happy I'm going to let you eat two-thirds of it ... no, half before I jump on it."

Jon cleaned up Garfield's mess and then set up his table. Garfield was so happy that he restrained himself from dropping the glass, even though he was sure the noise would be so pretty if it smashed on the floor. After putting the lasagna to heat, Jon came to caress Garfield.  
He realized that he hadn't been petted often. Mama Leone's cooks didn't have time to do it and had to follow silly hygiene rules like not petting the cat with fingers full of sauce. His mother had to take care of five other kittens. It was the first time that he had a human caring only for him. Getting the back of the ear scratched was the nicest thing in the world for now. That and having his chin petted. So, humans had another purpose other than serving food and providing shelter. It was not a feline legend. In fact, it was so good that Garfield almost regretted sending Jon's food on the floor. Such pleasant caresses may well be worth eating these horrors.

On second thought, no. Jon had to be trained as quickly as possible to make a good servant. In a week or two, Garfield could make some concessions. For example, he could agree to eat kibble at any time of the day, but demand that Jon share his food twice a day. Yes, that would be reasonable.

After five days, Garfield landed on the armchair - which was officially forbidden - to think. A good human trainer needs to evaluate his work to be sure he's on the right track.

First, the good things. Jon was a wimp who obeyed most of his wishes. Garfield ate lasagna twice a week, and he hoped that soon, he would eat it once every three days. Jon was yelling at him when Garfield ate his meal but had already taken the reflex to cook a second meal for himself  
without preventing Garfield from finishing his. Sleep time was perfect. Garfield could spend the night sleeping in Jon's bed or in his basket when Jon snored too loud. He even received a teddy bear to keep him company. Pooky was his best friend, except at mealtimes when it was Jon. When he was hungry, he had unlimited kibble or the ability to bite Jon's toes or sit on his face. When it came to hugs, it was the best thing in the world after lasagna, except when he wanted to sleep. Watching TV while being petted was even enjoyable activity. Garfield did hope that sometime there would be an emission explaining to him how to better govern his kingdom. Oh, and Jon had also introduced him to something fantastic: the balls of wool.

Now, the bad things. Jon did not obey all his wishes. Garfield was condemned to endure the horrible canned food, but at least Jon was testing all tastes to find one to suit him. Garfield wasn't allowed to sleep on the armchair, nor to claw on the carpet. He was ready to concede on the rug, but not for the chair. He would train Jon to obey. More annoying, he had been trying for days to taste Jon's morning drink, but Jon was stubborn about the fact that it was a drink for adults and humans. As soon as Garfield had finished growing, he would resume his fight to taste this "coffee".

Overall, the situation was acceptable. He and Jon shared the same love for laziness and gluttony. When Jon would understand Garfield was the boss, the situation would be at least as idyllic as at the restaurant. Perhaps it would even be better since there was not even competition for hugs and food.

"Oh no, Garfield, did you slept on the armchair? Naughty cat, you know very well that you are not allowed to go there!"

"Be a little more threatening to stop me then, pathetic human. Now, come and put me on your knees, my left ear is scratching. "

"Oh, how cute! You're so adorable that I can't stay angry. Come on, I'll pet you!"

Perfect. Jon was so stupid that Garfield could almost telepathically communicate with him. It was probably because his brain was so empty that foreign thoughts entered it easily.

"Tonight you will let me eat the steak. "

"What could we eat tonight? How about spinach?"

Missed. Jon was useless. But at least his caress technique was perfect. Garfield purred enthusiastically.

"How can you be so cute? It's impossible to refuse you anything, you're so cute. Luckily, when you are a grown-up, you'll be less cute. It will be easier to deny you things."

What? Unacceptable!

Garfield dug his claws into Jon's knee. Then started purring again because his hugs were so divine.


End file.
